Bird of Song
by HatchetNoseGelphie
Summary: Slavery in Oz was a slightly contested matter. Of course, there are two sides to every argument. When Galinda marries wealthy slaveowner Sir Chuffrey, she discovers a green-skinned slave who seems to be the means to everyone's desires. Beware, for in this world, not everyone's motives are what they seem to be. Eventual Gelphie. Rated K for now.
1. The Flightless

**A/N: Hello~. HatchetNoseGelphie here with my first Gelphie fic. I have a few notes to make regarding this one, but I will probably save them for later. For now, I will post this first chapter, and if I get positive feedback, then I will post a second and make my notes then. For now, I own nothing of Wicked or Oz and please read and review.**

 **Also, I am interested in a beta reader, so comment if you'd consider it please.**

Sir Chuffrey was a rather wealthy man in Gillikin, despite being only a baronet. His wealth, as many knew but disregarded, mostly came from his use of slaves. Slavery was a matter commonly discussed in Gillikin, but not many were actually against it. Rather, it was a means to an end. A necessary evil. And Sir Chuffrey was no different in his thinking.

Now, Galinda Arduenna Upland was rather proud of herself for catching his eye and marrying him. Sure, his title wasn't much, but his money was. He'd definitely keep her comfortable and happy for the remainder of her life, she knew. So, if she had to overlook his use of slavery to farm the pinobble he made his fortune from… She was fine with that. After all, this was what she had been raised for.

It was the day after their wedding, and she and Sir Chuffrey were riding in their lover's carriage into the Chuffrey Estate. She knew that she was not the first Lady Chuffrey, but that bothered her about as much as the slavery – that is, not much at all.

They passed the long expanse of pinobble leaf plants, several Quadlings bent over, farming the tricky plant. They looked exhausted in the summer sun, but still, they didn't even regard the carriage as it passed.

Galinda huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Shouldn't they be the least bit interested?" she complained to her new husband.

He stroked a hand through her blonde curls. "Worry not, my dear. They are just very hard workers," he offered her a smile.

The carriage came to a stop just outside the Manor, and Chuffrey rapped a few times on the outside of the door, sticking his arm through the window to do so. Galinda fiddled with her dress, situating it, as Chuffrey called out, "Witch!" and a slave came running.

Galinda didn't even bother looking at the slave; she didn't need to. She knew she'd just find another trembling Quadling with dusty red skin. And so, she mindlessly handed her bags out and they were taken by an unknown someone as she frowned down at her dress and wondered whether she should go shopping again.

At one point, when handing a bag down, a calloused hand brushed Galinda's. She flinched and recoiled. "How _dare_ you touch-" she spat, but then was cut off as she actually looked at the slave in question.

The girl was rather tall, with sharp features, dark eyes, and _green_ skin. Green. She also had a metal contraption on her head. It was fastened from the back and wrapped around to the front, where two prongs pierced her lower lip and disappeared inside her mouth.

For a moment, the slave just stood there, then she retreated a step and dipped her head in apology. Galinda huffed again and looked away, waiting until Chuffrey had exited and rounded the carriage, extending her a hand.

"Don't mind Elphaba," he chuckled. "Her verdigris is hideous, but it's not contagious. See, I found her as a child, down in Quadling Country. It took a bit of taming to get her to where she is now," he patted Elphaba on the shoulder, and dark irises darted to look at him out of the corner of the eye, a quick, jerking, unpredictable action. "But she is, regardless, the hardest worker in my force. Will break her back and keep plowing as if nothing happened."

Galinda looked at the slave again, curling her lip in disgust. "She's nauseating," the blonde shook her head. The dark eyes flickered back to her, the woman bearing no expression at all on her face. "What is that thing she wears on her head?"

Chuffrey hooked a finger around one of the prongs and tugged slightly. "Oh, this? This is just a contraption made by yours truly," he grinned proudly. "See, our little vegetable here had quite the tongue about her when she came. So I designed this to train her." Using two fingers, he pressed apart Elphaba's gray lips and, obediently, the green girl opened her mouth.

"See?" Chuffrey reached his hand inside, pulling the mouth farther apart. The two prongs that extended from her lip reached inside, over her lower teeth, and pierced her tongue. There were little bulbs atop her tongue holding the metal in place, and Galinda could see a rough layer about the metal. "Talking is highly painful for her. But remaining silent isn't."

As if to test the green girl, Galinda took hold of one of Chuffrey's valises and 'accidentally' opened it, spilling its contents onto the mud. "Oops, clumsy me," she grinned.

Elphaba blinked once, then bent down and collected his strewn clothing in the valise again. She stood straight again and turned towards him. "Clean them," he instructed with a wave of his hand. She nodded, once, and then was gone.

The building of Chuffrey Manor itself was one of a quiet elegance. Even before setting foot inside, Galinda was in love with the architecture. The low awning, supported by hard-edged pillars, demanded an air of dignity, of self-worth. Inside, however, she found that the ceiling was quite high, and she had to take a moment to recover her breath at the sight of the magnificent swirling beams creating patterns just below the ceiling.

The room she shared with Chuffrey was, by far, the largest room she'd ever been in, and there was a vanity almost as large as the length of her bed back home in Frottica. She stood, entranced by the room. She approached the bed, which was far too big for only two people. The blanket was made of the softest Vinkun silk she had ever felt, a material which encased the pillows, as well. The pillows themselves were durable, and placing pressure on them with her hand, she found that it felt as if her hand was sinking in to the pillow. She could only imagine what it must be like to sleep on it.

"Like it?" Chuffrey smiled, one of his genuine smiles. A warm feeling spread through her chest towards him. No, she wasn't in love with him, but she certainly did love him.

Beaming, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning up on her tiptoes to place a small, chaste kiss on his lips. "It's perfect."

* * *

The sun was already beginning to set in the sky. The finches and linnet birds had begun to fall asleep, but the owls were awaking, and the mice had begun to scram for cover. A brown mouse scampered across the field with low-trimmed grass, beginning to panic as it could not find protection. An owl in a tree nearby noticed, and was watching the creature with an intense stare.

Watching all of this from her spot, leaning against the fence marking the edge of the Chuffrey territory, Elphaba debated. Should she allow the owl to snatch up his dinner, or force him to seek other accommodations?

The mouse was coming closer to her. _Don't think_. _Just listen. Just watch. Just observe._ Those three commands were what got her through her everyday life now. So, she observed as the mouse slowly approached, its little legs taking it as fast as they could. The owl had begun to spread his wings.

Breathing deeply through her nose, Elphaba stood. She took a step forward and snatched the mouse up by its tail. The owl settled back down and watched her with piercing yellow eyes, but she just stared right back, unalarmed, as she placed the mouse in her hand and covered it with her other hand.

The creature began to scuffle in the entrapment, squeaking loudly, but she kept it locked in as she slipped under the hole in the fence that Sir Chuffrey didn't know about, and didn't need to know about. The mouse urinated in her hand, but she didn't even react, just taking another dozen steps into the woods before placing the mouse on the ground and watching it scurry under some leaves.

She wiped her hand along the bark of a nearby tree, grasping some leaves and rubbing it into her palm. It was a shade lighter than her skin, and the contrast was quite intoxicating. However, she was no longer one to dwell on such beauty anymore.

The leaves fell to the ground as she looked around herself. She could do it. She could run away. _Don't think_. Returning her gaze to the fence, she approached once again and slipped through the hole, reentering the Chuffrey estate.

Not thinking about it, she made her way to where the owl was. Reaching a hand out, she gently stroked his beak, and then his head. She was unsurprised that he let her. She had always had a strange affinity with animals. She couldn't quite explain it, nor should she care to. Nor did she care to.

Like everything else in her life right now, she just…accepted it.

She had been asleep for so long, and she wasn't even bothered to wonder when she would awaken again.

* * *

Many of the slaves had children, Galinda noted over the next two months as she settled into her new home at Chuffrey Manor. The children did minor work, like laundry and cleaning the house, but mostly had much more lenience towards their freedom than the grown slaves.

Galinda had always liked children. Planned on having a few of her own someday. So, when she would find groups of Quadling children playing out in the meadow, sometimes she would join them. Supervise them, make sure none got hurt, and befriend them. Now, she didn't do anything unladylike, oh no, but she would feign a lost princess whom the children needed to save from the mean dragon – a role usually filled by one of the male Quadling slaves on break.

And so, the children would tackle the grown man, who would play along and pretend that he was a mean ol' dragon, baring and snapping his teeth good-humoredly. Actually, Galinda found, the Quadlings really weren't all that bad. They never spoke any complaints about Chuffrey, and treated her with massive respect. They were kind, and their smiles genuine.

There was one Quadling in particular, an older woman who went only by Junta, who was especially sweet. She was missing half of her teeth, and spoke with a lisp therefore, but she always checked on Galinda, made sure the blonde had eaten and drank enough that day, and often knit her shawls. Galinda had become quite fond of old Junta.

However, she still did not like the green slave. Not that the green slave ever played, or really took a break at all from working. Or spoke, of course. _Good on Chuffrey_ , Galinda thought to herself as she watched the green woman in the branches of an apple tree, dropping the fruit into baskets.

There was a cluster of trees at the edge of the meadow, and today in particular, one of the children had a kite. A gift from Chuffrey, her father had explained. Of course, Chuffrey had enough slaves that not everyone had to be working at once. There was simply not enough to do. So, they rotated shifts.

The adults hung back today as Galinda ventured out into the meadow with three children and the kite. It didn't take long before the kite got stuck in a tree, however. Galinda frowned and looked down at her dress, and then over to where the slaves were. She found that they had returned to their duties, and sighed.

"Miss Galinda!" wailed the owner of the kite, a young girl named Arda. "The kite is to be stuck!" she pouted out her lower lip, tears welling up in her eyes.

Her heart throbbing for the little girl, Galinda smiled and placed a hand on Arda's shoulder. "I shall have to go fetch it for you then, shan't I?"

Arda's face brightened. "You would, Miss Galinda?" she gasped.

"Yes," Galinda acquiesced, trying not to let nerves creep into her voice. She glanced at the tree. The kite was awfully high up… And it had been so long since she had climbed trees as a child, but… That hopeful look on Arda's face. How could she say no?

And so, she smoothed down her dress – ah well, it wasn't her favorite anyway – and approached the tree. Her heart leaping into her throat, she grabbed hold of the bark and began to haul herself up.

She was three-quarters of the way to the kite when she made the mistake of looking down. Seeing the distance that had been created, an awfully long distance, she gulped and clung on to the bark. Shakily, she grabbed another branch and hauled herself up. Almost there…

Three more branches, and she had reached the one with the kite. She sat on top of it and slowly began to inch down to where the toy was. Something rustled beside her, and a squirrel danced across the branch, causing the toy to fall. And also causing Galinda to fall.

Time seemed to slow. The blonde shrieked and grasped for something, anything that could save her from plummeting to her death. There was nothing. And then, a hand latched around her wrist. Galinda used her other hand to take hold of the arm attached to the hand, grasping with a death grip, her nails sinking into flesh as she was pulled back up onto the branch.

"Th-thank y-you-u…" she stuttered to her savior, trembling violently. She finally looked at her rescuer, once the dots in her vision swam away, and nearly fell out of the tree again. For, sitting on the branch beside her, green legs swinging down, was none other than Elphaba.

Those dark eyes bore into Galinda and she couldn't suppress a small shudder. In such close proximity, she found that they were actually a rich brown in color. She knew that she should be repulsed that she was so close to Elphaba, but she mostly just felt…grateful. Galinda shook her head slowly. "Why did you save me? I have been awful to you," she murmured, cerulean eyes wide in shock and confusion.

Elphaba turned her head away, quickly. Galinda had noticed that about the slave. Her movements were always jerks. There was no fluency to them. Of course, Galinda hadn't watched her work yet, but from what she's seen, Elphaba was like a tiktok thing. Just a series of sudden movements with no human flow. Randomly, Galinda felt an urge to make sure the green woman was actually human. Disregarding the verdigris briefly, she reached out a finger and placed it on Elphaba's wrist.

Her head turned back swiftly, eyes wide and alert. Galinda's eyes were again drawn to the strange metal contraption. It didn't look comfortable in the slightest. So instead of actually speaking, Elphaba gave a jerking shrug. Her eyes were so deep… Galinda couldn't help but wonder what the slave's voice sounded like. She shook the thought from her head slightly.

Galinda's face turned pink as a realization struck her. Below them, the Quadling children had reclaimed the kite and were happily playing with it again. "I… I'm not quite sure how to get down," Galinda admitted.

Blinking once, Elphaba leapt back towards the trunk and beckoned for Galinda to follow. Very unsurely, the blonde did, reaching the trunk as Elphaba began climbing down jerkily, but stopped to wait. Elphaba glanced down, then back up at the blonde. One green pinkie twitched, and Galinda thought she understood.

Ever so gradually, they made their way downwards, with Elphaba below so she could make sure the Frottican wouldn't fall.

Halfway down, though, Galinda's foot slipped. She let out a small scream as her hands fumbled and lost hold of the bark and she started falling backwards. She thought that surely she would be plummeting to her death, but then she felt a strong arm wrap around her chest from behind, and though she was still falling, there was a body pressed to her back. Upon hitting the ground, the blonde had the wind knocked out of her, but was unharmed regardless.

That's when she became aware of Elphaba underneath her, cushioning her. Galinda scrambled up, fearing she'd find the green woman dead. However, the green woman stood abruptly, and if she was hurt at all, she didn't show it. It just made Galinda wonder, once again, if the slave was truly a tiktok thing.

"Oh, my Lurline," Galinda gasped once she had caught her breath again. Elphaba's wrist was at an odd angle and she was breathing somewhat shallowly. "Are you alright?" she rushed forward, hands reaching out only partially in concern but mostly in thanks for saving her life twice now.

As she reached out, though, with arms extended to…she didn't know. Hug the green girl? Shake her? Regardless, as she reached out, Elphaba jumped back. And that was not meant as in she took a few steps backwards – no, she actually leapt backwards. Galinda stared at her in shock. "Your wrist," she fumbled out, her mouth not wanting to form words at first. "I think it's broken. And surely you must have broken some ribs. We should have a medic look at you."

Elphaba looked down at her wrist, as if she was only just now registering it. Her gaze flicked back to Galinda without any change in her demeanor or expression. She wasn't even holding her wrist to her body in pain, like someone should if they broke their wrist. Her hand simply hung just as limply as the other, down by her sides, in spite of the awful purplish bruising that was already forming around the wrist.

Galinda bit her lip and took a step forward, but Elphaba stepped back, much quicker. "You really ought to have someone look at it," she argued, but she didn't think she'd win this. She wasn't certain why she didn't just order the green girl to go to a medic – after all, she did technically own all of the slaves along with Chuffrey, now that they were married.

Perhaps it was the depth of vague, unplaceable, and undescribable emotion swarming in those chocolate irises. Perhaps it was the silent intensity that the green woman seemed to always carry about her without even trying to. Perhaps it was the way that her breathing was always steady – granted, it was shallow now, likely due to (a) broken rib(s), but still consistent, as if she existed in a continuous state that, once rendered stress, adjusted quickly and easily, despite being so jerky in movement.

But Galinda couldn't figure her out. It would be so much _easier_ if the green woman could talk, but Galinda knew that that would certainly never happen, and she also knew that it was for the better. A disobedient slave, a slave whose tongue was sharper than his or her intellect, was almost as dangerous as a learned slave. So of course, if this Elphaba had a sharp tongue on her, then it was good on Chuffrey to take that freedom away from her.

And yet, without the green slave even being able to speak, she had won an argument against Galinda. This frustrated the blonde to no end, who huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips childishly. Elphaba remained as deathly still as ever until incentive was given for her to make a move.

"Elphaba!"

The vegetable flinched at the sound of Sir Chuffrey's voice, and she quickly turned her head to view him fast approaching. He did not seem happy in the slightest, but his anger faltered as he saw Galinda.

"Oh, Galinda, darling," he exclaimed, enveloping his strong arms around her. "Your dress is filthy! Did you wander about, or did Elphaba here cause a scene?" he asked sternly. "You know you're not supposed to wander unsupervised."

Over his shoulder, Galinda's eyes met Elphaba's again. No, she was supposed to at least have two Quadlings with her at a time. If only to protect her if something were to happen. She felt guilt wash over her at Elphaba's stoic features, though. She couldn't throw the green woman under the carriage after she'd just saved her life, twice, could she?

The blonde opened her mouth and was about to reply when Elphaba suddenly reached forward and brushed her hand against Chuffrey's back. He released Galinda and turned to face the slave, who blinked once and then dipped her head slightly.

Junta, bless her heart, noticed a commotion and began hobbling over. "What's all this?" she asked.

Chuffrey ignored her, hardening his gaze at Elphaba. "I see. I ought to train you a bit more, then," he told Elphaba. Then, he reached into the pocket of his coat and retrieved a covered syringe, filled with a clear liquid.

When she saw it, Elphaba's eyes widened and she shook her head, once. Junta gasped and stepped forward. "Sir Chuffrey, with all due respect, sir, is this really necessary?" she questioned, placing one hand on Elphaba's shoulder.

"Is what necessary?" Galinda frowned, oblivious to what was in the syringe, and how it could affect the green girl. She was only slightly surprised that Elphaba didn't flinch at being touched by Junta.

Chuffrey moved the syringe to the right, and brown eyes darted after it. Moved it to the left, and the irises sprinted to catch up. He stepped forward and gently stroked Elphaba's upper left arm before removing the cap. "There, there. Perhaps you'll finally learn your lesson this time."

He thrust the syringe into the crook of Elphaba's neck, right at the corner of her throat. In one swift motion, he had emptied the contents into her bloodstream.

Galinda was shocked when Elphaba fell to her knees, her hand flying up to cover her neck. A low, guttural sound escaped from deep within her throat, filled with so much agony that Galinda's heart throbbed. The green girl's chocolate eyes were squeezed shut tight against the pain that the contents of the syringe seemed to cause her. Galinda almost didn't believe it. This woman fell out of a tree, got crushed by the Frottican in the process, and stood up, showing no indication of feeling pain, and now this little syringe had her weak?

Junta sighed and stroked back raven hair. "There, there, duckie…" she murmured soothingly. Then, to Galinda's further astonishment, the old, dusty pink woman with hanging cheeks, wrinkles within her wrinkles, and no obvious physique to speak of gathered Elphaba up in her arms and began hobbling away with her.

The blonde wasn't sure whether she was more surprised at the fact that Junta could do it, or the fact that Elphaba let her, even curled up into a tight ball in the Quadling's arms.

After they left, Galinda turned back to Chuffrey, a frown marring her pretty features. "Chuff, I didn't know you hurt them," she told him, her voice slightly strained.

Chuffrey sighed and ran a hand through his slightly thinning hair. "I try not to. Only if they give me reason to do I hurt them. Yes, I've whipped the slaves before, and no, I do not like it. I don't like to hear them cry out in pain. But it's necessary sometimes, you see?" he stroked her cheek.

Nodding mindlessly, Galinda believed him. Slaves who did not obey needed to be taught how to obey, didn't they? It still bugged her conscious a little that Elphaba had done nothing wrong to deserve the painful treatment. In fact, she had taken blame for Galinda's wrong. If Galinda had taken the blame, she probably wouldn't have been punished, but since, for some unknown reason, Elphaba had taken it… She _was_ punished. And it was Galinda's fault for not speaking the truth.

Even now, she couldn't bring herself to describe to her new husband how Elphaba had actually saved her. The green girl had protected her. But that brought up complications that, in all honesty, terrified Galinda. She didn't want to deal with the aftermath. So, she had to leave it as it was.

Chuffrey took her back to the manor, and they spent the rest of the day in the studio, with him reading a book and her painting.


	2. A Wealthy Visitor

**A/N: Hello again; I know it's been quite a while and I apologize for that, but the past few months were hectic and I'll admit, Bird of Song was pretty low on my priority list ahah. But I'm very excited at all of the positive feedback I've received on this, and I've decided (already) to bump it up to a T rating.**

 **Though, as I said last chapter, I do have to make a few notes. First, Elphaba may seem somewhat out-of-character, and that's because this isn't** ** _exactly_** **Elphaba. She's a very vocal and opinionated character, so she learned how to detach herself, basically. This will be much more explained in this chapter and following ones, but just trying to quickly assuage anyone who might be upset about her seeming OOC. Also, Junta is going to be a pretty important character. Since Ama Clutch will only be in this in passing mention, Junta kinda took over her role, denoted especially with the 'duckie' affectionate, but she also has hints of Nanny in her role; apart from that, she is her own character.**

 **I think the only other comment I wanna make for now is that in this fanfic, as hinted at in the description, motives are important, and not always clear. Some will be, mind, but others... Not so much. They're for you to figure out :).**

 **I own nothing of Wicked. Please read and review - as I say, reviews keep a writer alive!**

"Galinda, dearest," came Chuffrey's voice from the bedroom. The blonde in question was currently freshening up in the bathroom. She exited and returned to him, sitting next to him on the bed as he patted it for her.

On the other side of the room, Elphaba was pouring tea into cups for them. For the first two days after the syringe incident, the green girl had been curiously absent, but afterwards, had returned as if nothing had happened, jerky and blank as ever. Her wrist had been wrapped in a dusty gauze, but it was Galinda's opinion that the appendage shouldn't be used so much only four days after having been broken, and yet, it didn't seem to bother Elphaba.

Chuffrey took one of Galinda's hands and massaged it gently. "We're going to have a guest for supper today. One woman named Madame Morrible. She said she is an advocate of a very wealthy man who might be interested in purchasing a slave of ours. Make sure you dress as your lovely self, yes?" he smiled.

She grinned and nodded in return. "Oh, I think I shall wear my lavender dress! The one with the pink flowers attached?" she suggested and he shrugged, then kissed her hand.

"Anyway, I must be off. Have some finances to take care of," he put her hand down and patted it before heading towards the door. He stopped to grab a cup of tea that Elphaba had finished. "Wonderful work, as always, Witch," he complimented the slave before leaving.

So, that left just Elphaba and Galinda. The green woman fidgeted over to the blonde with a boiling cup in her hands. The Frottican was surprised that the liquid didn't spill over at the flicking movements.

Galinda cleared her throat a bit as she took the cup. "Thank you. How're your ribs, and wrist?" she asked. Elphaba didn't make any acknowledgement that she had heard her, merely stared at her, wide-eyed. Galinda shuddered a bit under that intense gaze. "Did you end up having any ribs broken?" Nothing, and then a small, fast nod. Galinda looked away for a moment before returning her gaze. "How many?"

To this, Elphaba did not respond once again, just continuing staring unabashedly. Galinda tried again. "Can you show me on your fingers?" A nod. Galinda was starting to catch on. "Will you show me on your fingers?" A pause, and then a nod, and then two green fingers were held up in the air for a solid five seconds before shooting back down.

"I see," Galinda mused. "You really only acknowledge 'yes-or-no' questions. Is that right?" A nod. "Am I allowed to ask you more?" Another. "Hmm… Do you remember your last name?" A nod. "What is it?" Galinda had asked the question before realizing it wasn't 'yes-or-no', and then smacked her forehead with her hand, not at all surprised when Elphaba remained standing with a blank expression. "Can you tell me?" she tried again. At this, Elphaba shook her head, surprising the blonde. "Oh? And why not?" Of course, no answer to that one.

Galinda made a noise of frustration and threw her hands up in the air while standing abruptly. Elphaba leapt back a step. "I _do not_ understand you!" Galinda despaired. Then, she turned melancholy and took a step forward, placing a hand on Elphaba's arms and gently stroking the impossibly soft green skin with her thumb. Touching that smooth flesh was almost intoxicating. "How can you live, so trapped? You cannot fly, and you cannot sing. You are a mute swan who has had her wings clipped. What life is that?" she murmured.

If the girl had any ears, Galinda expected Elphaba to react to that. Not that Galinda meant to say it out loud, but since she did, she actually expected a reaction. But rather, Elphaba just remained as still as ever, her chest rising and falling quickly, likely a result of her two broken ribs, and rhythmically. If Galinda's words had any effect on her, the slave certainly didn't show it.

Shaking her head slowly, Galinda looked away. "You are dismissed," she muttered, and when she looked back, Elphaba was gone. Just like that.

* * *

"I am most pleased that you were so eager to receive me," Madame Morrible, a fish-like woman who wore more colors at once than ever should be worn, crowed as she strutted through the Chuffrey Manor beside Sir Chuffrey himself.

Chuffrey smiled kindly. "Why, of course, Madame. Would you like to look to the slaves before or after our food?" he questioned.

She considered this, placing a finger on her powdered chin. "I think before shall be well," she decided.

The answer caught him a bit off guard, but he quickly recovered. "Why, of course, Madame," he breathed, and then spotted his wife meandering through the halls with two Quadling slaves behind her. "Ah, Galinda!"

She approached curiously, a basket of flowers in her arms and each slave carrying two baskets. "Hello, Chuffrey," she greeted him, then smiled dazzlingly at Madame Morrible. "And are you the famed Madame Morrible he's informed me of?"

Madame Morrible adopted the air of smug that Galinda bestowed upon her. "Indeed, I am. The one and only. And good Sir, who might this be?"

Chuffrey placed a hand on Galinda's shoulders. "This is my wife, Galinda," he grinned, and then turned towards the slaves. "Perch, Munk, go set the baskets down in our bedroom and call all the slaves back from work. Line up against the wall outside the coops," he instructed. The two Quadlings nodded, took Galinda's basket as well, and left.

"I was simply picking some azaleas to brighten up the manor," Galinda explained. "Perch and Munk were more than willing to help."

Morrible frowned. "Did you not order them to help you?"

Galinda felt her face heat slightly. "N-no. I mean, yes. I mean…" she took a deep breath. "I approached some that were on break and asked if any would like to accompany me. Perch and Munk offered. If no one did, however, _then_ I would have ordered two to."

The older woman did not seem to approve. "Slaves are not a matter of willingness. You own them. You can make them do whatever you wish. If you wanted old Munk there to throw himself off a cliff, he has no right to disobey you. Do not treat your property like they actually matter. Like they are anything more than a means to an end."

The Frottican swallowed, hard. "Y-yes, Madame…" she agreed. "You are completely correct," she added, just for extra measure.

Chuffrey cleared his throat, as if trying to slice the tension between the two women in half. "Well, regardless. Madame, while we wait for the slaves to gather along their line, why don't I give you a tour?"

Throughout the duration of the tour, Galinda paid very little attention. She already knew the history of this fantastic building. She often fiddled with the silk flowers attached to her dress. Sometimes, she would occupy herself in her thoughts, however. In fact, a good portion of this time was spent thinking about Elphaba, and how frustrating the girl was.

And how confident she had been when she had rescued her.

Galinda shuddered slightly at the memory. She could have died, but she didn't. She was pulled back into the present as Chuffrey concluded the tour, and then led both Morrible and Galinda out towards the slave coop.

In all honesty, the blonde was pretty curious about it. She had never actually seen where the slaves slept. It seemed big enough from the outside, from a distance, but as they got closer, she frowned as she realized it really wasn't all that big at all.

The slaves were all lined up against the outer wall of the coop, in a military-style with their heads dipped and hands held low in submission. Green Elphaba stuck out among the red, making Galinda zone in on her really quickly. As they stood at one end of the line, Galinda risked a peek through the window of the coop.

All there was inside, from what she could see, was blue mats, stretched out in rows with very little room in between. Galinda shuddered again, and hoped Morrible didn't catch that. Luckily, the carp-like woman didn't say anything.

"…Yes, I have many eligible slaves," Chuffrey was saying. "Thirty-four of working age and eight children that will grow into able-bodied workers someday."

Morrible nodded along, impressed. She reached Junta and a look of disapproval crossed her face as she flicked one of Junta's flabbing cheeks. "Some of them are in awful condition," she stated, but then nodded as she reached a Quadling man in his prime whom Galinda knew to be called Lovn. "And some of them are not," Morrible acquiesced.

And then, Morrible reached Elphaba. She recoiled slightly, but then a curious look lit her features. "This one. What is its name?"

Chuffrey cleared his throat before responding. "That one there is Elphaba."

Fish eyes widened ever so slightly, but Morrible's face was quickly a blank canvas of disapproval again. "What a pretty name for such a disgusting creature," she shook her head. One of her hands gripped Elphaba's shoulder. "She's strong. What does she wear on her head?"

Chuffrey's smile turned proud again. "A contraption of my making. She had a rather sharp tongue, so I fitted that to her." Morrible nodded approvingly.

She then lifted Elphaba's chin, but brown eyes remained down. "Look at me." Those intense irises flew up to stare through Morrible, rather than at her.

Morrible made a sound, deep in her throat, much like a grunt. "What do you think of this place, girl?" she addressed the slave. Much to Galinda's expectations, Elphaba did not acknowledge that a question was even asked. This did not please Morrible in the slightest. "I asked you a question," she growled. "What do you think of this place?" When Elphaba disregarded, again, the notion of being addressed, the Madame snarled and slapped a hand across Elphaba's face, right above the bar of her contraption. Her sharp nails drew blood on a green cheek, but Elphaba straightened back up, showing no acknowledgement that anything had happened. "I asked what you think!" Morrible burst.

"Please!" cried Junta, stepping out of the line. "She don't think!"

"I did not address you, slave."

"She don't think," Junta repeated, hobbling over to where they were. She gently held a piece of cloth against the new gashes. Junta gave Morrible a hard look. "She don't think, Madame. She don't talk and she don't think. She just feel."

Morrible's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean? Everyone thinks."

"She don't think," Junta countered again.

The advocate took a step back and turned to Chuffrey. "I see your slaves are rather out of hand," she drawled disapprovingly. "I doubt, at this point, that you'll even punish this one that spoke and moved out of turn."

Chuffrey's face was red with anger, though not particularly towards Junta. Regardless, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I shall punish her right in front of you," he declared, then withdrew a long coiled something from within his coat pocket.

Concerned, Galinda placed a hand on his arm. "Chuff, what are you doing?" she asked softly.

"Junta, you know what to do," Chuffrey stated. Nodding in spite of her trembling, Junta removed the loose blouse she wore, her entire torso except for her brassiere being exposed to them all. She knelt down in front of Chuffrey, facing away from him. Her back bore signs of having been whipped before, but many of them looked very old and very faded.

Chuffrey uncoiled the whip and threw it back over his shoulder. Taking a deep breath again, he lifted it high, poised to strike. When he moved to bring it down, however, Elphaba darted in the way, the whip bearing down on the back of her left shoulder. Galinda screamed in fright, her hands coming up to cover her mouth.

The whip sliced through Elphaba's tattered shirt, leaving a bloody streak down her shoulder. "Elphaba!" Chuffrey shouted. The woman jumped into a stand, giving him a defiant look. He growled and hooked a finger through one of the loops piercing her lip, tugging on it sharply. Galinda imagined that probably hurt. "So, am I to take it you mean to claim Junta's punishment for her?" he asked softly, his voice dangerously low. A fierce nod from Elphaba. "So be it then."

Jerkily, Elphaba removed her shirt and tossed it aside. Galinda's face heated as she found the green girl did not wear a brassiere. Elphaba knelt and turned, baring her expanse of scars on a grass-colored meadow of a back to them. And there were so many scars. Galinda didn't remove her hands from her mouth, her eyes wide.

"No, duckie, I can take my own hits," Junta cooed, sitting up straight and stroking Elphaba's mane of spun night. "Don't you take no hits for old Junta."

However, Elphaba's mind seemed to be made up, and she would not move from the spot, refusing to so much as flinch at the fifteen whiplashes that sliced through her green flesh after that.

Chuffrey recoiled the whip and stuffed it into his coat again. "Well. Then, Madame, how about I show you to the dining room and we prepare for our meal," he suggested with a smile, though Galinda noted how exhausted he looked. "Galinda?" he questioned.

The blonde took a steadying breath, letting her hands drop to her sides, and shook her head. "Not yet. With all due respect, I'd like to freshen up first," she plastered a smile on her face.

Chuffrey nodded and headed off with Morrible.

Galinda turned back to where Junta was muttering soothing words to Elphaba, despite the green woman not responding to it. "There, there, duckie… Junta's got you… Junta's gonna take your pain away…" Elphaba just sat still, moving every now and then to allow the Quadling to slip the shirt back over her torso. The rest of the slaves disbanded, some patting Junta and others simply returning to work as if nothing had happened.

"Is she okay?" Galinda asked tentatively, taking a step forward.

The older woman sighed and stood, bringing Elphaba up with her. "Ah, she's fine," Junta shook her head. "I just gotta tend her lashings so they don't infect. Junta tends all her hurts."

The Quadling then guided the green woman into the coop, Galinda following silently. Inside, it was hot and stuffy and Galinda couldn't figure how anyone could ever sleep in this. They wove through the endless maze of mats, some occupied by slaves. Galinda figured there should be no more than forty-two mats in here, but it was still way too cramped in the small space.

They made their way to a corner, where there was a smoother mat, which Elphaba gravitated towards and sat, cross-legged, on. Galinda figured it must be her bed, but it looked nicer than the others, as if it wasn't used often. Junta travelled to a nearby one and grabbed a bottle from within her pillowcase before returning. "There, now, duckie, let's get your shirt back off." And they did.

"Does she feel pain?" The question seemed stupid the moment it left Galinda's lips, and yet, she had to know, because it was really hard to tell with Elphaba.

Junta grunted and squirted a bit of the contents of the bottle onto her hand. She rubbed her pink hands together and began to massage the liquid into Elphaba's back. The green girl's head promptly fell, hanging limply down as her back arched slightly.

"She feel it, Lady Chuffrey," Junta answered. "She feel it all. She feel everything, all those feeling, and she don't do nothing about it. She don't care. She don't think."

Galinda wrinkled her nose slightly at the smell of the liquid. "What do you mean by that? By saying she doesn't think?" she questioned, wrapping her arms around herself. She was not the least bit comfortable in this coop.

Junta applied more pressure to her rubbing, skillfully avoiding injuries now. "I mean she don't think," she sighed. "When Fae came here, she were no more'n eight. Junta practically raised her, she did. She were ten when that thing were put on her. Bad thing, Junta said, but Chuffrey didn't think. Poor Fae didn't know nothing. She liked words. But ol' Chuffrey quiet her, and keep her out of library. It were easier to not think. So she stopped. She don't think, Lady. She don't think."

Shuddering slightly at the tale, Galinda looked away. "Does she hear us? Is she aware of what goes on around her?" she pressed.

"She aware of it all, Miss Galinda," Junta said softly. "Junta try to get her to think again, but she don't. She don't got reason to."

Galinda shook her head slowly. "You know her so well," she murmured.

The old woman took her hands from Elphaba's back and began to capture her hair, running pink fingers through raven locks and pulling Elphaba's head back up. "Junta about raised her," she sighed. "Junta know her, Junta do. Junta love her. Fae don't know that, but Junta love her." The Quadling looked away, blinking tears away.

Sympathetically, Galinda laid a hand on Junta's shoulder. "I think she knows, Junta," she murmured gently.

"No, she don't. She don't."

* * *

Ten minutes after, Elphaba was summoned for serving and Galinda was summoned for the dinner.

Although the coop hadn't been comfortable, Galinda found that the dinner table, with its luxurious padded chair, was even less comfortable, if only for the air about the company. Currently, Chuffrey and Morrible were discussing the Wizard's plans to extend the Yellow Brick Road and have it travel through all parts of Oz, and Galinda was wishing she could be anywhere else right then. The conversation was so boring, and all they were doing was passionately agreeing with one another.

Through the dinner, Galinda hadn't seen much of the green woman. Elphaba mostly came and went, and Galinda actually found herself despairing slightly over the absence. The green slave was just so intense, even if she couldn't speak.

The food itself was absolutely delectable. The corn was cooked to a golden brown perfection, and the pork was an equal blend of rare and well, to the point of which Galinda found the food much, much more interesting than the conversation. By the time they had finished the main course, the slaves had brought some cakes out as dessert.

Galinda was stuffed already – well, not too much, as she knew how to set limits to what she ate – but Chuffrey had an endless black pit.

"So, Madame Morrible, did any of my merchandise catch your attention? Perhaps Lovn, the strong one you were eyeing?" Chuffrey suggested.

Morrible hummed and took a sip of her tea. "Slaves! Refill this!" she shouted back, and then returned her attention to Chuffrey. "I do have my eye on one. But I need a little more time to be sure, if that is alright with you, good sir."

Chuffrey smiled good-naturedly. "That is perfectly fine. If you choose that you do want one, we can discuss a price from there based on fitness and ability and ethic, yes?" he offered.

The Madame took another bite of cake, chewing it slowly and swallowing it before replying, if only to create an air of suspense. "Indeed. I have much to offer for the right one," she explained.

From the back kitchen, Elphaba entered, a pot of tea in hand. She crossed over to where the three sat and began refilling their cups. Morrible seemed to think this a fine time for a conversation change.

"Oh, have you heard of the old Eminent of Nest Hardings? Poor Peerless Thropp," she shook her head slowly. Chuffrey made a nose of acquiescence, listening intently to her. "All those years ago, losing his granddaughter and great-granddaughter. He's getting all old now, and the only other young Thropp girl is an invalid."

Galinda buried her head in her arms, and thus, didn't notice when Elphaba began to tremble, her eyes widening even more so than usual as she poured the tea into Morrible's cup, and then stood straight.

"Oh, yes," Morrible continued. "Ever since little Shell was born, that invalid and her crazy aunt are all that's left of the maternal line."

Chuffrey frowned. "And what happened to the mother and elder sister, again?" he questioned.

Morrible shrugged half-heartedly. "The elder was hideous, but she wasn't invalid. It's said that there was complications when the mother was birthing Shell. Frexspar Thropp sent his eldest out to find a medic, but she ran off instead, and the mother died. Killed for her own child's defiance." She sighed. "Poor Melena…"

There was the sound of shattering glass. Galinda's head flew up and she saw Elphaba, standing a foot now away from Morrible, who had turned to see the commotion. Elphaba was quivering, the broken pot of tea lying at her feet. Very slowly, her gaze travelled to Galinda. A verdant hand gently touched one of the metal loops that extended from her lower lips. Galinda had never seen her move so fluently.

They stared at each other for a few solid seconds. Simply by the rise and fall of her small chest, Galinda could see that Elphaba's breathing was erratic, and the green girl gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head before turning and fleeing the room. Galinda wanted to go after her, but fear kept her rooted to the spot.

* * *

Elphaba couldn't breathe. She couldn't hear anything, nor smell anything. She couldn't taste anything other than the rotten metal in her mouth. She ran until she found an empty closet and locked herself inside of it. No, no, she had stopped thinking, she had stopped!

 _"_ _Melena, give me back that child!"_

 _"_ _No, you can't have it! It may be disgusting, but it's the only one I've got!"_

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. Her shaking hands pulled at the contraption, but all she got was shooting pain through her tongue as the serrated covering of the metal rubbed against her sensitive appendage.

 _"_ _Go find a medic, Elphaba! Your mother needs help!"_

She had been so peaceful, but now, everything was coming back. The chaos was returning, and she couldn't let it. She couldn't succumb again. A strangled sound escaped her as she hit her head against the door. This wasn't okay.

There was so much pain. Her wrist was in agony with every movement. It felt like there was a permanent crushing weight on her ribs. Her back and shoulder were on fire. It was so easy to ignore the pain when one didn't think, but when one thought, the pain was always on the forefront of one's mind. When she didn't think, the only pain she was forced to acknowledge was when Chuffrey would try to burn her from the inside out.

She had worked so hard. She had fought so much. Just to find her peace, and now, it was escaping her. She closed her eyes and struggled to control her breathing. All she needed to do was forget. Forget about everything that mattered. Forget about what it was like to think. To matter. To care.

* * *

Back in the dining room, Galinda, Morrible, and Chuffrey had been silent for a few minutes before the latter two resumed discussions. Before long, the dinner and dessert had completed, and it was time for Morrible to leave.

"So?" Chuffrey prompted as he offered her a hand to help her up, which she gladly took. "Have you made a decision?"

Morrible's lips twisted into a smile that Galinda altogether didn't like. "I have," she stated. She took her sweet time adjusting her dress to fall perfectly, creating even more suspense, before looking back at the baronet. "I want the green one."

There was a moment of quiet. Both Sir and Lady were shocked out of words. "Elphaba?" Chuffrey sputtered. "You want Elphaba, surely?" he confirmed.

The Madame nodded. "Indeed. I am prepared to offer quite a large sum," she answered.

"No," Galinda interrupted. "No, not that one. Not Elphaba."

Morrible frowned. "I don't see how you have a say. I was addressing Sir Chuffrey," she stated.

However, Chuffrey shook his head slowly. "Elphaba's not for sale, Madame."

The older woman made a noise of disapproval. "Not even for enough green pennies to cover the Yellow Brick Road from Center Munch as far as Nest Pastoria?" she offered.

Chuffrey's eyes widened in surprise, but then shook his head again, quicker this time. "Not Elphaba," he repeated Galinda's words.

"I'll double it. Pine Barrens."

It was obvious that Chuffrey was struggling, but he held fast. "No, Madame, I must refuse," he choked out.

Morrible's frown deepened. "Then you name the price. What will get you to part with the green girl?"

Taking a deep breath, Chuffrey steadied his resolve. "I will not sell Elphaba. Madame, with all due respect, I will sell any other slave, but not Elphaba. I spent many years training her. Taming her. I have no wish to throw that out the proverbial window. Surely, there is another slave you're interested in?" he asked.

The advocate stood abruptly. "Not at all. I will have the green one, and no other," she demanded.

A bout of courage shot through Galinda and she stood up, as well, facing off with the fish-like woman. "Then you shall have no slave of ours," she spat.

"The slaves are not yours, dear. They're his."

"Leave," Chuffrey now stood, as well, his gaze hard. "As Galinda said, you shall have no slave of ours. Leave." And so, Morrible did.

She left, but she knew that she was not at all done with the Chuffreys, nor the green girl. Oh no, she thought to herself as she approached the carriage that had been waiting outside the whole day. If anything, she had just begun.

Once inside the carriage, she pulled a color-changing dark stone out of seemingly nowhere. She ran her middle fingernail from her left hand along its length, and it began to glow. She tapped it three times, in a rhythmic pattern, and the glowing ceased.

"Good evening, Madame," came a distorted male voice from the stone, a magic means of communication that had been lost for many, many years. Ever since the Kumbric Witch's supposed disappearance.

Morrible's lips twisted up in a wicked smile. She did not even greet the man with which she was communicating. All she said was, plain and simple, "I've found her, your Ozness. I've found your daughter."


	3. Birth

**A/N: Sorry that this chapter is a bit shorter, and for the delay, but it's been a hectic summer for me, and I felt that this was the best place to leave off. Of course, though, in my infinite talking last chapter, I even forgot something I wanted to warn you guys about, so I figure I'll just add it on here ahah.**

 **That is, birds. As you can guess by the title of the fanfic, birds are very important in this work. And the birds symbolize concepts, people, etc. So, if you feel like you wanna gamble a guess at what a particular bird I've mentioned means, feel free to put it in a review!**

 **Also, that intricate web of motivations I'm weaving? Four new players in this chapter, so keep an eye out, and feel free to wager a guess in the comments ;).**

 **Aside from that, I own nothing of Wicked - read and review as always (reviews help me update quicker!) and I hope you all like this chapter! I will also try to make my updates more frequent. Thank you and enjoy!**

Nestled deep against the mountains and hills of northern Nest Hardings, proud and true in its modest spectacularity, Colwen Grounds both withered and thrived. It was a simple house that gave off more wonder than a house really should. Although it looked wonderful, the inside was rather basic.

Though, it did serve its inhabitants well. Frexspar Thropp was currently bent over a table, reviewing missionary notes and letters from families that expressed interest into unionism and wanted to be enlightened. His lips quirked slightly. He had spent some five years in Quadling Country, yes, and although he'd been back in Munchkinland for almost twenty years, he was still missing the swampy lands and the curious people of his former residence.

"Twenty years," he mused, shaking his head.

Behind him, Nanny smacked her lips. "Now, now, Frexspar, don't you give up on her," she declared, shooting him an accusatory look before returning to where she was helping twenty-five year-old Nessarose read. The girl tapped her foot acknowledgingly and Nanny turned the page for her.

Frex stood up, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Twenty years, Nanny," he repeated. "Twenty years, surely we must have heard something if she was to return."

Nanny shook her head. "She probably has a perfectly good reason. You know she can take care of herself. When she comes to, she'll return. Don't you lose your faith now," she warned.

However, Frex sighed and turned away. "She was eight, Nanny. What eight year old can take care of herself? I don't think she's still alive, Nanny, though it pains me to say-"

"Stop that this instant," Nanny chastised him.

Nessa seemed to notice the conversation and looked up with a frown. "It's probably good off if that's the case, then. If it weren't for her, Mama would still be alive."

Nanny turned her sharp gaze on the armless girl now. "You stop that, too. We don't know if the Quadling medic could've saved Melena. And you should care about your sister being alive, now."

Rolling her eyes, Nessarose leaned back in her chair. "Why should I?" she challenged. "It's not like she ever did anything good for me, then, did she?"

"She doted on you!" Nanny exclaimed. "Ever since you were born and she was three, she doted on you. If you wanted something she had, it was as good as yours."

Frexspar returned his glasses to his face. "Only because she herself never wanted anything, Nanny. She didn't care about anything," he interjected.

Nanny made a noise of frustration. "Nonsense. She was a child, and as any child should, she wanted."

"She was not a child," Frex raised an eyebrow as he spoke. "Children are not born with sin. Children are not born with teeth."

"And still, she was yours."

He looked away at this. "I did love her yet, Nanny, you know that."

Nessa wrinkled her nose. "She was not meant to be loved," she declared.

Nanny was disgusted with both of the Thropps present in the room. "You are both awful!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "Old Nanny works all day and all night to take care of you Thropps, and you don't even appreciate each other. Cornswallop, she wasn't meant to be loved," she grumbled.

The armless girl sighed. "Why are we even bringing her up now, after all these years?" she argued.

Frexspar and Nanny exchanged a look. "She's twenty-eight today," Frexspar spoke softly. "Where do you think she might be?"

The older woman began braiding Nessa's hair. "Nanny don't know, Frex. I say, Nanny don't know. Nanny just hopes she's happy."

* * *

The very day after Morrible had left, Elphaba had returned to her normal, blank, expressionless self. And after that, a whole five months passed without incident. Though she tried not to think about it, Galinda felt herself becoming obsessed with that look on Elphaba's face. The one where Elphaba had moved like a normal person, and had expressed actual pain in her eyes as she stared into Galinda over the dinner table with nothing but the utmost fright. Galinda swore she had never seen anything more humane. She despaired the loss of what she honestly believed to be the true Elphaba.

Over time, Galinda found herself going out of her way to interact with the green girl, but often times, Elphaba was busy. It was as if the slave was an unending force of energy that never stopped working, but could be subdued when not at work.

She couldn't help but wonder if, by some chance, Elphaba was ignoring her. But when the girl didn't think, how did she ignore?

It was so _frustrating_.

Over the five months, however, Galinda took to meeting more of the slaves. One burning afternoon in particular, she sat outside in the heat, fanning herself beside Perch as he paced. Munk was currently trying to calm him down. "It's alright, boy. Minda's going to be fantastic, and at the end of it, you shall have a wonderful new life to love. A brand new child."

Perch's wife, Minda, was inside the coop with a select few, birthing her first baby. Galinda wasn't even aware of all who was inside, only that there were over two dozen slaves milling about outside the coop.

Galinda stepped forward and knocked on the door to the coop. "It's Galinda. May I help?" she called.

"Come in, duckie," Junta's voice came. The blonde wasn't surprised that Junta'd be there.

She entered to Minda screaming, shaking her head violently. It wasn't a pretty sight, but Galinda swallowed hard and approached.

To the Frottican's extreme shock, however, Elphaba was there, too. The green girl was kneeling on the ground beside the mat that Minda was stretched out on. Elphaba's left hand was being crushed by Minda's while her right, which bore a thick, elbow-length glove, was dipping into a bucket of water and then massaging Minda's temples with, to even more amazement, fluent movements.

"Oh, it's coming. Fae, grab a blanket for me," Junta instructed.

Nodding, Elphaba took the glove off her right hand and retrieved a small blue knit blanket from beside the bucket.

Junta grabbed it. Minda looked down in between contractions and smiled. "Did you make that, Fae?" she questioned breathlessly. "It's beautiful."

Elphaba hid a smile and dipped her head, her cheeks tinting brown.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Galinda questioned as she approached, sitting down beside Elphaba.

"Keep applying the wet rag to her forehead," Junta replied as another contraction caused Minda to scream again. "Now you gotta push, duckie," she informed the other Quadling.

In all her life, Galinda thought the first time she would witness this was when she would give birth, but this moment proved her wrong, and through all the screaming and heat, she felt nothing short but utter wonder when, ten minutes later, a small, red baby girl slid onto a towel. She didn't even realize she was crying until salty tears slipped into her mouth. She laughed, watching as the new life let out its first cry.

Junta cut the umbilical cord, cleaned the baby off, and then clothed her in Elphaba's blue blanket. The brand new child was handed to its mother, who was weeping tears of joy, and Perch was called in.

Galinda looked to Elphaba, who was very carefully lifting the bucket and carrying it away. The blonde sighed. "Elphaba, could I speak with you, perchance?" she questioned.

The green slave hesitated, then nodded and placed the bucket back down, gesturing towards the door of the coop. As Quadlings rushed in to meet the new arrival, Galinda and Elphaba slipped out and met up again behind the building.

"You're thinking, aren't you?" Galinda asked softly.

Looking away, Elphaba gave a shrug. It was the second time Galinda had seen her shrug in the eight months now that she'd been there.

Galinda chuckled and shook her head. "There. That's proof enough. Why don't you think more?"

Elphaba met her gaze again, and Galinda was surprised by the hurt she saw in those brown eyes. A green finger reached up and lightly tugged on a loop of the contraption that stuck out of her lower lip and connected to the main rod that circled her head.

"Won't you think more?" Galinda asked gently. "If you were asked to? Would you?"

Slowly, Elphaba shook her head. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep, steadying breath before opening them again. She opened her mouth and pointed at her tongue. Then, she shook her head again. She tapped her head, and then lifted a hand and clenched it into a fist. After a moment, Galinda realized that the girl was trying to communicate pain.

Galinda reached out a hand and dusted off Elphaba's shoulder with a frown. "Thinking causes you pain," she murmured. "But if you were to have that cage taken off of your mouth-"

She was cut off as Elphaba let out a strangled sound at the idea. Elphaba fervently shook her head, then pointed to a spot on the bar. Galinda looked closer and noticed that it looked somewhat chipped. The green girl then drew a finger across her own throat.

"If you escape it, you'll die?" Galinda questioned lightly. Elphaba didn't seem satisfied, so she took Galinda's finger and dragged it across the green throat. It took Galinda a moment. "If you escape, you'll be killed." It was more of a statement than a question.

Nodding, Elphaba leaned back against the wall of the coop and closed her eyes. She was still for a long time, and Galinda watched as any sort of expression fell off of the green girl's face and her breathing fell into its rhythm. The blonde sighed. She had lost her.

"Fae!" called Junta from inside. Elphaba entered, returning to her jerky, blocked movements. Galinda followed shortly after.

Junta was holding the swaddled newborn as Minda discussed something lowly with Perch, both beaming. Junta moved to hand the baby to Elphaba, but then paused when she saw the girl's fluentless motions. She exhaled slowly. "She gone again, then," Junta murmured.

Galinda confirmed it.

The old woman frowned and handed the babe back to her parents. "Junta had to snap her back when poor Minda started feeling birthing pains. Told her Junta needed help. Fae weren't too happy bout it. She don't like to think. Not thinking don't do nothing good for her, Junta says, but Fae don't listen. Ever since that Arjiki twist her mind…"

This caught Galinda's attention amongst Junta's ramblings. "Arjiki?" she questioned. "Like the Vinkun tribe?"

"Ah," Junta grunted. "Don't do nothing good for her. A troublemaker, Junta says, but Fae fell for him anyhow. No one listen to old Junta," the slave shook her head disapprovingly.

"Fell for him?" Galinda parroted. "What do you mean, she fell for him?"

Junta's frown deepened. "Broke her little heart, he did. Broke her mind and broke her heart. And she were only sixteen, too."

"Broke her mind and heart how?"

"Ah, Junta already says too much."

"No, Junta," Galinda pleaded. "If I know how she's been broken, maybe I can fix her."

Junta shot the Lady a hard glare at that. "Don't no one try to take little Fae's heart again, you hear? Don't no one even try," she threatened.

Blue eyes widened in surprise at the implication of the Quadling's words. "No, Junta, I'm not trying to take her heart-"

"Don't no one!"

Stunned, Galinda didn't even reply as Junta took Elphaba by the arms and led her over to her mat in the corner. "Now, now, duckie, Junta's got you…"

Galinda turned and saw Chuffrey approaching her. She smiled and allowed him to place a chaste kiss on her lips. He was obviously in a good mood, and didn't show any notion of having heard Galinda's conversation with Junta.

"The last time we had a Quadling born was two years ago, with Polt," Chuffrey revealed, pointing to the young boy that was dancing about the legs of his very annoyed-looking mother.

The blonde made a small noise in the back of her throat. "It's amazing," she murmured. "I helped." She didn't bother mentioning Elphaba's consciousness, as she was certain Chuffrey did not care for the slaves enough to notice such minute details.

He chuckled and pulled her close. "I'm sure you did," he smiled and kissed the top of her head. "They'll be having a ritual tonight, to welcome the new life into the world. An old custom of theirs."

Galinda pulled back in slight surprise. "You let them keep their culture, even as slaves?" she questioned.

Chuffrey nodded, watching Polt as the red toddler ended up tripping his mother. "Of course. I see no reason why not. If anything, it makes them more content. If they are not unhappy, then they see no reason to leave. They were not so happy when they first got here, but we seemed to come to an understanding."

A thought struck the Frottican and she looked away. "And so you don't beat them as much? Because if there was any indication on the day that Madame Morrible came to visit-"

"Don't worry yourself about that."

She met his gaze again, seeing guarded uncertainty in his deep green eyes. "I mean it, Galinda," he emphasized. "It is not your place to punish them, and thusly, you should not concern yourself at all with the matter. That is business that I alone must deal with." His tone turned a bit lighter. "Alright?"

With a sigh, Galinda nodded and, once again, averted her gaze. "Alright…"

By the time the sun had danced lower in the sky and the moon was beginning to make her appearance, the Quadlings had set up a hexagon of sorts in the meadow. They used barrels of hay to form a six-sided figure with the only entrances being at the corners. The hexagon was large, and there was a bonfire stretching high into the sky, curling tendrils of smoke reaching towards the moon, as if to invite her in.

Standing around the fire itself was Junta, holding a jar of something, Minda, holding her newborn, and Perch, with his arms around his wife. Junta's face was painted with dirt, forming circles around her dark eyes and accentuating the dusty rose pigment of her skin. The dirt was also spread across her lips, and down the bridge of her nose, making her look very curious and regal at once.

The rest of the slaves, adults and children alike, were spread out a good ten yards away from the fire, Galinda and Chuffrey with them. They watched as Junta loudly chanted a few words of prayer, then dipped two fingers into the something that she carried. She dragged her fingers across the infant's brow. She shouted something in Qua'ati and the surrounding slaves shouted it back, save for Elphaba.

The infant was then taken by Junta, who held her high, then tore off the brazen silver cloth it was swaddled in and tossed it into the fire. Another Qua'ati phrase was announced, and then repeated by the rest of them.

The baby was held, butt-naked, above the fire, where the flames lapped at its toes but never burned. The infant began to cry, and Junta hushed it, bringing her back down and rubbing a dusty finger over those hours-old lips. The child stilled, entranced, as Junta began to mumble something soft and quick to it.

A veiled figure was shoved out of the surrounding crowd of slaves, and stiffly, it made its way to the center. Galinda knew those jerky movements anywhere. Beside her, Chuffrey patted her shoulder, gave her a look, and then also approached the center of the hexagon.

Bewildered, Galinda hung back, watching as Chuffrey found hidden Elphaba and tore off her cover. Underneath of it, her face was decorated with white powder. There were ivory dots under her eyes and swirls along her cheeks. To Galinda, she looked absolutely, stunningly wild.

Chuffrey took off one boot and retrieved a key from within his sock. He nudged Elphaba's mouth open and unscrewed the balls atop the loops that pierced her tongue. He stored them in his pocket and turned to the back of her head, where the contraption started. As Junta began to chant again in that foreign language, Chuffrey unlocked the mechanism. With utmost care, he maneuvered it out of the green slave's mouth and held it in his hands.

Elphaba took a deep, shuddering breath. She was conscious again. Galinda watched as Chuffrey offered her a small blade and Elphaba took it. Elphaba then proceeded to cut her own left hand, down the life line. The rest of the Quadlings present began to murmur together, low and deep, the same haunting chant that Junta was uttering.

The green girl captured some of the blood on her right forefinger and drew it down the infant's cheeks, as that of tear streaks. Junta screeched something then, in Qua'ati, and the slaves reciprocated.

There was a moment of quiet, and then a voice began, soft and soulful. It was singing a Quadling hymn, and although Galinda couldn't make out what it was saying, the message was clear: We accept this blessing of life, from whatever force does offer it. We shall protect this blessing of life.

The voice was sad and hopeful at the same time, and it slowly increased in volume. Since the group was now turned away from Galinda, she couldn't tell who was the one singing, only that the voice itself was downright entrancing. It was filled with so much emotion, the blonde was certain it can't have been human. She closed her eyes and let the voice, husky and smooth, like a rock skipping over a river, or a lionfish gliding through the sea, or a Cheetah practically flying across the savannah, wash over her.

All too soon, the hymn was finished. When Elphaba returned to the group, and Galinda opened her eyes again, the green girl had her contraption back on again. It raised a few questions as to why Chuffrey had taken it off in the first place, but Galinda let it be, simply letting the beauty of the ritual take her someplace far, far away, where the bluebirds would sing and the swans would soar through the air and cry out in melody, giving voice to the pain and joy they felt and celebrating life.


End file.
